


7. “I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

by pacoca



Series: soft prompts; [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca/pseuds/pacoca
Summary: Five tries to deal with bad memories.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: soft prompts; [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612939
Comments: 7
Kudos: 75





	7. “I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

He wakes up on the third hour, at the twelfth day of July. 

Heat simmers in the courtyard, like bacon sizzling over the pan. There’s insects and color, the song and sound of the summer sky melting against the dry pavement in greens and hues of orange. The summer has set in his skin too. His sweat spots the two hundred and thirty fourth page of the Mathematical Foundations of Quantum Mechanics like a bookmark.

He rights himself against the chair and wipes the drool that’s dried across his chin with his sleeve. The sun is doing him in, and he feels out of sorts of with it, bright and big against a spotless sky. He is heavy when he pries his body away from the chair, his book sliding off his lap as he goes.

It’s dehydration, or some sort of summer flu, that's all. Five makes his way to the kitchen. Water is what he needs, if not for the thirst, but for the bile of putrid ash in his tongue that lingers vaguely like the aftertaste of an old twinky. 

It’s been three years since he made it back and he still can’t shake the taste of it.

He blinks in the kitchen, it’s faster this way, and the water is cool against his tongue, pooling across his cheek like a steady stream. Vanya is there too. 

She clamps her mouth shut when she looks at him. 

‘Hey…. I was just coming over for some food.’ 

He takes his head from under the tap to look at her. 

Vanya fidgets, ‘Uh, you okay? You seem kind of…. out of it.’ 

‘I’m fine.’ He snaps. He twists the tap closed. ‘Peanut butter’s at the top shelf.’ 

‘Okay, thanks. But are you sure you—‘ 

Five jumps to his room. 

He is seeing spots a little, but that’s okay. He flops on his bed and looks up at the ceiling, at the countless numbers that dots the room like constellations. Five keeps his gaze there, waiting for the throbbing in his head to disappear.

At least he’s home. He’s _not there_ anymore, hasn’t been there for three years now, and what a fucking relief that is, that he doesn't wake up with dust on his eyes and on his hair. He's got real food now, and a bed and blankets and though he's spent only half a year there, it still felt like it would've been forever. A miracle is what brought him back, and it's gonna take more than that to save the world from it's inevitable hurtle towards armageddon, but for now he closes his eyes and hopes the memory of _that place_ fades away.

He hears three knocks at the door. 

Fucking hell. 

'Hey, Five.' It sounds like Vanya, 'Can I come in?' 

Five contemplates not answering and saving a couple of blissful moments for himself, but shit, she sounds worried. He sighs, looks up at the ceiling again. It's not worth the guilt. 

'Come in.' He tells her, 'Lock the door behind you.' 

Vanya slips in, quiet as a mouse. The smell of toast wafts in the room like perfume, and his stomach responds eagerly. She closes the door behind her. 

'Hey. I just wanted to see if you're doing okay. You kind of…. you looked a bit pale back in the kitchen.' 

'Well, let's just say I've never been partial to heat and leave it at that.' 

'Yeah?' She leaves her plate on the bedside table. Five's favourite is peanut butter and marshmallows but Vanya has always preferred a good, grilled cheese sandwich. 

‘You never complained before.’ Vanya says.

‘Really.’

‘You just seem a bit weird ever since that time we all had dinner.’ She fidgets, ‘I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you’re okay. Sorry if I’m overstepping or—‘ 

‘It’s fine.’ He pats the space beside him, and Vanya obediently goes. The mattress tilts to her weight. 

‘So whats up?’

He’s almost tempted to tell the truth, but they could never understand. He’s not even sure if they have the mental capacity to comprehend it, and Vanya has always been the one he comes to when he needs a soundboard for his ideas, but that’s miles different from having an actual colleague who he could have an actual conversation with. Besides, involving another person will just be detrimental to the mission. He doesn’t need the distraction.

But Vanya is kind, and her big, brown eyes are looking down at him with worry. She’s trustworthy. He’s always appreciated that about her.

‘Bad dreams.’ It’s as close to the truth as he could get, ‘Took a nap outside to clear my head, and woke up with a brain more scrambled than radio static. Figures.’ 

‘It sounds like more than just bad dreams.’ 

He doesn’t say anything to that. 

‘If you want you could talk to Mom. I could come with you.’

‘If I wanted to talk to her, I would’ve, but I don’t need to. Unlike everyone else around here, I can handle my own shit just fine.’ 

She scoffs at him, but there’s a small, wry smile on her face. 

‘Alright, then.’ She says, ‘But I’m going to eat here. You look weird, and I’m not leaving you alone.’ Vanya promptly picks up her plate, and takes a massive bite of her sandwich. 

He‘s irritated, ‘Vanya.’

‘Do you want me to go?’

He levels her a stare.

‘Then I’m staying. You’re all sweaty and pale. I’m not going to leave you when you’re like this.’ She takes another big bite of her sandwich. ‘I just want to be there for you, that’s all.’ 

Crumbs sprinkle out when she talks, and he’s got half a mind to just drag her out and close the door behind her back, but he finds that he’s too tired for that. He doesn’t want her out anyway. Her presence is comforting even, and he feels the memory of _that place_ ebb just from the smell of her favourite sandwich alone. 

‘You’re going to regret that.’ He closes his eyes and tries to remember that he’s here now, in the correct timeline. That there’s people now, and colour here, that silence doesn’t stretch before him like an empty road. 

It’s a little easier though, when her hand slips under his to hold.

‘I might, but it’s okay.’ She says, ‘I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.’

It’s enough, just then. Five feels something close to relief when he holds her tight, and rides the last of the wave with her.

He’s not alone.


End file.
